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My father bought this place when I was a young teenager. At the time, he had just secured a contract with Mark Carver—the owner of Snowcap Ski Resort, and the man we’re meeting with tomorrow—to do remodel work on the large vacation spot. It was a smaller resort back then, and much smaller than the expansion they have planned over the next two years. Even though the resort is two hours from home and my Dad had a small crew at the time, he knew the project would be a wise endeavor for the company.
The mountain that houses the cabins is beautiful, but it’s also a bit tucked out of the way for most tourists, especially since most come for the resort itself. The previous owner said he had trouble keeping them booked out, but for some reason, my father took a chance on the purchase.
They needed a lot of work to bring them back to life, but back then, business was slow and Dad had the time. While his crew handled the ski remodel, Dad was still working back at home throughout the week, and he thought it would be a good idea to bring Drake and I along when he worked on the remodel on the cabins nearly every weekend. My father takes his work seriously, but he’s also a softy at heart. Nothing comes before family, and any chance he had to include us, he did so.
Drake may not be blood, but he’s family. The son of my father’s long-time secretary, Claire, he and I were practically raised as brothers. Luckily, we’ve always gotten along just fine.
We’re quiet for a few minutes. Drake suddenly hums and downs the last of his beer and taps it gently against the table. “I think I’m gonna hop into the hot tub. I’m so fucking sore from the gym last night.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” I agree. We both rise and head inside. I reach out to grab his empty beer and take both bottles over to the recycling can in the pantry closet, then I make my way over to the counter to check my phone. No messages, fully charged. I sigh and yank it off the charger.
No news is probably good news, but.. . I make a call home anyway.
